Chapter 51. Left Behind
"I'm sick of your secrets, Harry. I'm sick of everything about you. I don't care if you've got some damn sacred prophecy that declares you the one and only hope of the entire Wizarding world against an eternity under You-Know-Who, I still--DON'T NEED you AS A friend!"
This last pronouncement rang across the stunned Great Hall and reverberated in Harry's mind. The only audible sound he registered was the clatter and clink of silverware on a plate and the steadily approaching sound of footsteps on the stone floor.
"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall said in a shaking voice as she cowed Ron with her most disapproving look. "All of you," she said as she looked from Harry, to Hermione, and then to Ginny. "Follow me."
Harry was only vaguely aware of his feet moving forward; one step after another as he followed along behind Hermione. The look on McGonagall's face as she held open the door for each of them was unfathomable and just before the door could close, he heard the distinct cackle of Malfoy's laughter.
"You didn't tell him, right?" Hermione whispered desperately as she spun around and grabbed the front of Harry's robes.
He vaguely recalled feeling a fleeting anger towards her from just moments ago when she'd silenced him and not Ron, but now, Harry couldn't even recall what it was he'd meant to say.
"Right," she said as he realized he'd not answered her. "I didn't see when you would have. He doesn't know it's true." Hermione's voice was shaky and she looked to McGonagall, who stood beside them, looking a bit breathless. "He doesn't know it's true," Hermione repeated as if to reassure herself as much as Harry or Professor McGonagall.
McGonagall nodded once at this and seemed to pull herself up straighter. "Right, I suggest all of you take a moment to calm yourselves." She threw a sharp glance at where Ron stood sullenly beside Ginny who was trying her best to settle Ron down. "Professor Dumbledore should be right along—"
The door to the antechamber off the Great Hall burst open then and, with a flurry of black robes, in swept Snape, wand drawn in a flash, who didn't stop until he had Ron backed against a wall and stammering.
"Legilimens!" Snape incanted furiously before anyone could move.
Ron's eyes rolled up into his head and his hands splayed out on the wall behind him as he slithered down to his knees.
"Stop that!" Ginny cried as she stepped threateningly towards Snape.
But Snape was ignoring her; his lips mumbling as he continued to curse Ron. Ginny's courage was faltering as she froze, watching Ron suffer under the curse.
Harry heard Professor McGonagall beside him intake a deep breath and begin to say, "Sev—" but Harry quickly reached out and stopped her with a hand on her forearm. He tore his eyes away from the sight of a helpless Ron twitching as he sagged against the bottom of the wall.
"Wait," Harry mouthed to McGonagall. Somehow—for some reason—Harry trusted Snape, more than anyone else in the room, to know how to act in what Harry now saw as a major effing catastrophic time of crisis. He was too numb right now to even notice the stunned horror on Hermione's face or the tears leaking from Ginny's eyes as neither could tear their eyes from the sight of Ron under the curse.
Abruptly, Snape's arm jerked his wand down, relinquishing control of Ron's thoughts and he pivoted. "Of all the words to come from this idiot's mouth, he manages to jest and..." he trailed off as he looked at Ginny and snarled. "Pathetic!"
Ginny had hurried to Ron's side as soon as the curse had ended and she was trying to coax him awake.
"What did you do to him?!" she said hotly, glaring up at Snape.
Snape sneered and stalked closer to Ron and Ginny.
"Enervate!" he said as he pointed his wand, causing Ron's eyes to flutter open. Ron moaned and rubbed the back of his head, which he'd smacked back against the stone wall when the curse had hit him.
"Weasley," Snape began; making Ron's face flush bright red instantly. Whether it was anger or embarrassment from whatever Snape had done to him, Harry couldn't tell; he assumed it was a bit of both. "You are the most pathetic excuse for a wizard to grace these halls--ever! Up!" Snape waved imperiously for Ron to stand up.
He only made it to his feet because Ginny was already helping him to stand; otherwise it seemed Ron would have remained seated for the next month purely out of spite.
Snape stalked even closer and jabbed a finger towards Ron's face. "Have you any idea what you just did in there, Weasley? Do you?!" Snape hissed. "You, with your all-consuming envy, go spouting off at the mouth something that sounds like the knowledge the Dark Lord's been seeking ever since his return!"
"Severus?" asked the ever-calm voice of Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry didn't even recall hearing the door behind them open or close, much less a sound announcing the Headmaster's arrival.
"Headmaster," Snape began stridently as he turned to face the group near the door.
Snape stopped then, his shoulders giving an involuntary shudder as his eyes saw Harry and then Hermione. It didn't take Harry much more than a second to realise one scene in particular that Snape might have glimpsed from Ron's memory that would have caused such a reaction; Harry fought off his own shudder at the thought.
"Headmaster," Snape began again, this time pointing at the still red-faced Ron. "Weasley here needs to be made aware of the ramifications of his actions!" Snape straightened his shoulders and flexed a hand. "I think it's possible he may yet escape with his life."
"What?!" Ron squawked hoarsely.
"What the hell does that mean?" Ginny demanded, still at Ron's side.
McGonagall, regaining her voice at the proceedings, said, "Language, Miss Weasley!"
"Well?" Ginny demanded again.
"Mister Weasley just painted himself as a prime target—a vessel containing the most coveted knowledge around! There're likely more than a dozen students sending off post right now to the Dark Lord telling of the news just flung about in the Great Hall!" Snape was wearing his sadistic smile that never meant anything good for anyone but him. "You really are incapable of thought, aren't you, you Weasleys?"
"Severus—" McGonagall warned.
"Oh, yes," Snape went on in silky voice, "I've seen how Mister Weasley here thinks—when he thinks, that is. Jealous...envious...bitter..."
"Am not!" Ron stated hotly as his face flooded red.
"Oh, but you are, Weasley. I should know. I was the one, after all, who was forced to break into your wretched excuse for a mind and determine just what, if any, knowledge you possess." Snape looked smug and then stated, "Unsurprisingly, I found nothing."
"Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Harry felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and then realised it'd been there ever since Dumbledore had come in. "Are you telling me you used the Legilimens spell to see into Mister Weasley's mind here?"
Snape looked a tad discomfited at this question as Harry heard Ron mumble, "You did wha...?" Ron's face had drained so drastically of all color that it was now almost as pale as the white oxford shirt he wore beneath his robes.
"Your mind, Weasley," Snape said acidly. "The thing most creatures possessing intelligence have atop their shoulders. I've never seen a mind so embroiled with such bitter envy—"
"Severus, I do not believe you are one to talk," Dumbledore said quite forcefully as he moved from Harry's side, to where Snape stood, looking actually quite wounded at that statement. "Severus, I am sorry, but this is a matter which—"
Snape looked ill. "But, sir—you don't—Weasley—he said all that out there—in front of everyone! They all heard and who knows what they'll think now!" Snape looked wildly back at Ron and Ginny and then quickly conjured a privacy bubble around both Dumbledore and himself.
Harry could see Snape's face perfectly within the opalescent sphere and he clearly saw Snape's mouth form the words, "I had to determine what he knew—this could be a chance to regain favour!" The rest of Snape's words were spoken too rapidly for Harry to make out.
"Is it true?"
Harry turned then to see Ginny standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes wide.
"Was what Ron said concerning the...the prophecy true? Is that why they're...? Why you're...?" She was gesturing about the room but her eyes never left Harry's. "Was it?"
Harry's mouth seemed to be unable to move; the voice in his head wanted to shout out and deny it straight away.
"Not entirely," Hermione said, speaking up when Harry didn't. "It's...a possible interpretation and...well, it could be true given what's known about it. Voldemort might believe it. But it's certainly one of the more dangerous interpretations—Malfoy for instance, he'll be owling out straight away what he heard, just like Snape said, and because Ron is...well, was Harry's best friend, they all might think it's true."
Ginny's mouth hung open and Harry saw her looking at him again with dumbfounded awe. Her eyes swept over his face, catching a moment upon his scar before looking back at Hermione.
Hermione just nodded. "There are only a few reasons that could make Voldemort want to go after Harry more and, as it is, he's only been biding his time in hopes of learning more about the prophecy. If this..." Hermione's face paled then and she looked at Harry. "I suppose...oh, I suppose it's more a when...oh, Harry!"
Hermione flung her arms around Harry and sobbed once into his chest. "Oh, I'm so stupid! I should have silenced Ron! I...I was worried you'd say something you'd regret and—" She hiccoughed and sniffed. "I...I should have stopped him! It's my fault—I should have—"
"It can't be that bad, c-can it?" Ginny asked shakily as she looked back at the ill-faced Ron across the room.
Harry felt Hermione taking shuddering breaths to calm herself as he held her tightly to him. The warmth of her pressed against him seemed to be banishing all the numbness from his mind.
"Shh, Hermione," he said softly. "It's definitely not your fault." Harry saw McGonagall over by Ron and speaking to him quietly. "It might not be that bad," he said and, despite not explaining why, Ginny looked extremely relieved at this.
It was Harry's thought now that Snape's use of Legilimency on Ron had to be something he could use with Voldemort. Snape could tell Voldemort what he'd done and it would be seen as an attempt to gain the contents of the prophecy, which would obviously gain favour with Voldemort. However, the fact that Snape verified Ron didn't know and had merely exaggerated on what little he did know might just cause Voldemort to dismiss Ron's outburst entirely. As it was, Ron had irreversibly established himself as someone who might know the prophecy contents and Snape convincing Voldemort that Ron really knew nothing, was Ron's only chance at not becoming a prime target himself.
A loud pop! announced the disappearance of the privacy bubble ensconcing Dumbledore and Snape and, in no time, Snape was striding quickly towards the door with a barely a glance at Harry or anyone else.
At the sound of the door slamming shut, Professor Dumbledore exchanged a look with Harry. Snape was going to contact Voldemort. This was clear to Harry in the moment his eyes met Dumbledore's. Snape was going to try to do damage control with Ron's outburst and regain favour for himself at the same time.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly, "might I have a word with Mister Weasley for a moment? It might be a wise idea for you to return to the head table for the remainder of dinner. Someone ought to keep an eye on the students." McGonagall nodded and Dumbledore drew an arm around Ron and guided him over to the far side of the room near the tall hearth.
As McGonagall headed towards the door to leave, she muttered, "How the lot of you manage to always make things so exciting around here, I'll never know." After she left, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were left standing, alone in a corner.
Ginny kept looking forlornly at Harry and Hermione, who still stood with arms about each other's waists. It looked to Harry like Ginny desperately wished to know more about what was going on and the prophecy as a whole but was too reluctant to ask.
"It's better if you don't know, Gin," Harry said quietly in answer to her unspoken thoughts. "It's better if it's known that you don't know."
Ginny just nodded and looked down at her feet.
Professor Dumbledore then led Ron over towards them and said, "Virginia, I wonder if you might accompany Ronald to see Madame Pomfrey?"
Ginny nodded, nonplussed.
Dumbledore nodded once, saying, "Good, good. I'm sure he would appreciate the company."
Harry was puzzled and a quick look at Hermione's furrowed brow proved she was also baffled at the request. Ron shuffled past them, ears red and determinedly looking straight ahead at the door and nowhere else, until both he and Ginny had left. Both Hermione's and Harry's heads swivelled from watching Ron and Ginny exit, to then look questioningly at Dumbledore.
"Oh, no," Dumbledore said with a small smile and a shake of his head. "Do not look to me for explanations. It is not my place to say."
Harry wanted answers. "But—"
Dumbledore forestalled Harry with a raised hand. "I'm quite sure you do want answers, Harry. I even think you're entitled to them. However, I am afraid you will have to wait. There is an explanation for Ronald's behavior beyond the obvious feelings fuelling him, but it is Ronald's place to tell you and his alone."
"Why did you send him off to the hospital wing, Professor?" Hermione asked in a new attempt to get an explanation.
"Ah, well, for one, I hope he can find some peace and quiet there to gather his thoughts and then take the advice I just gave him. He's been put under a tremendous amount of stress this year, I'm afraid."
Harry's jaw dropped. "You--! You're...you're defending him? Professor!" Harry said as his voice rose sharply. "How—how could you?"
"Harry—"
"He's been a rotten friend most of the year and merely tolerant of Hermione at the best of times!"
"Harry—"
"He's treats Hermione like some piece of furniture he's claimed and can't understand that she's a person with her own feelings and mind—a brilliant mind at that!"
"Harry—"
Harry's voice only grew louder to keep speaking over Dumbledore. "He's constantly had the both of us on edge, never knowing when he's going to blow his top next, and we've tried to be considerate of his feelings—it may not have worked out but at least we've tried to remain friends—"
"Harry!"
"—Ron's done everything but ask me to choose outright between him and Hermione! And you know what? I know who I'd choose!"
Harry's mouth snapped shut after he yelled the last words and he now he remembered numerous things he'd have liked to shout back when they were at dinner. Yelling. In the Great Hall. The packed full Great Hall.
"Oh, hell," Harry muttered as he sunk into the nearest chair and cradled his head in his hands.
What was he going to do? Snape might be able to head off Voldemort, but that wouldn't stop all the students from believing Ron's words. That wouldn't deter the press from thinking Ron's outburst made a great story.
"Harry?" Dumbledore said yet again.
He looked up. Hermione stood between Harry and Dumbledore and looked ready to go off on a rant of her own just like Harry's if Dumbledore offered up some speech on tolerance and teenage angst.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said as he gestured to the table behind Harry. "Let's all have a seat. I don't mean to tell you that Ronald's actions haven't been above reproach. Oh, no. I only wish to point out that, while I know there are external factors influencing him, I also know neither of you know about them. And really, Ronald need not explain his actions to me as much as he needs to explain himself to the both of you. My advice to him has been and is that he explains his situation to the both of you completely. Hopefully, he can find a way do so."
Harry wasn't happy at any of this and his mounting fears concerning the public fallout with Ron's outburst were making him not at all willing to hear any excuses for Ron. "Whatever," he snapped. "You assume I still care enough to forgive him. Right now I'm more worried about the damage control. Snape went to Voldemort, right?"
Dumbledore, Harry could see, was pained by Harry's persisting resentment towards Ron. But what does he expect? Not everything's forgivable, Harry thought to himself.
Pulling out his gold pocket watch, Dumbledore pressed the fob and surveyed the face. "Well," he said snapping the watch shut, "I expect Alastor to be along shortly."
"But what about what happened out there?" Hermione persisted. "What are people saying? Shouldn't something be done?"
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses and he said, "Well, it's my experience that truth may often find shelter amid rumours. Ah, here's Alastor now."
Moody had flung open the side door to the antechamber and paused in the open doorway, magical eye swivelling about wildly, before he gimped on into the room and sent the door flying shut behind him.
"What's going on?" Moody growled at once. "Passed Snape in the tunnel up here. He only said summat about all Weasleys needing their mouths hexed off. Wasn't those twins again, was it? I'll give 'em a reason to keep their gobs shut if it was..."
"Come have a seat, Alastor," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'll fill you in on all of it. Remus is busy tonight and, as you saw, Severus has left for the evening. All we are waiting for is—" the door from the Great Hall opened and in walked Professor McGonagall, "—ah, and here she is."
"Albus—the rumour mill has the most outlandish things flying about out there! Every other word out of their mouths is 'prophecy' and Potter's name!"
Harry dropped his head to the table with a thunk.
"Come and have a seat, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said and Harry could hear the man twinkling. "Well, this is our gathering for the evening. Don't mind Harry over there." Harry took the hint and lifted his head reluctantly from the cool wood of the table. "I had hoped to have both Ronald and Virginia present to hear the news about their brother Percy; however, I'm afraid that plan has been abandoned."
With painful detail, Dumbledore related the spectacular events of the evening to Moody and then concluded, "I do believe that, however unfortunate the exchange between such good friends, the event may actually be used to our favour."
Harry turned to gape at Dumbledore.
"First off, I have need to inform you all that the over the past few weeks' proceedings in London, it became impossible for me to continue maintaining silence with regard to my connection with the prophecy. It was brought up as part of Percy's testimony as it had been his assignment to clean up after the incident last June. Percy was...rather like a caged and cornered animal while under interrogation. He very much wanted to lash out and did so by making sure that every single member of the Wizengamot knew I had obstructed his attempt to recreate a recording of that prophecy."
"Was he found guilty?" Harry asked at once. He didn't care of what Percy had been found guilty; just as long as there was something.
"Was he really under Imperius, Albus?" McGonagall followed immediately.
Moody added, "He's guilty enough, I tell yeh."
Dumbledore just sighed. "It's quite complicated."
"Albus..." Moody said warningly. Harry had the very distinct impression Moody would go after Percy himself if he thought justice had not been served. Harry felt he might like to join him.
"First, I should explain that before we conducted any of the investigations and ruled on any cases, we made the decision that no person who claimed Imperius could thereafter work for the Ministry. Until we have the means to determine the validity of a claim of the Imperius curse, the Wizengamot felt it was in the public's best interest to ensure these people were at least no longer allowed to remain in positions of power."
"Well, that sounds reasonable," McGonagall seemed to concede hesitantly.
Moody snorted. "Reasonable! Forgive me if I start to get leery when the Ministry acts reasonably. It makes me right uncomfortable. Next thing you know they'll be making sense and helping...no offense, Albus, of course."
Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "None taken, dear friend. I'll tell you though, that wasn't the only bit of reason we all came to agree upon. The wisest move I made, I believe, was to close the doors to our chambers and insist no one left until we worked through everything. It ensured there was no possibility of outside influences. The only objections made to the ruling on those claiming Imperius was the fear that it would cause a great deal of job loss and turnover.
"When Bradford Bobbington brought up the scenario that, as a member of the Wizengamot, he might be targeted with the curse to affect various outcomes in investigations and trials, I took the opportunity to suggest we remain in closed sessions until all proceedings were finalized to ensure no one was exposed to undue influences. Little objection could thereafter be raised." Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle now and leaned over towards Harry and whispered, "Every now and then, I even surprise myself."
Harry wasn't all that amused. "How is this supposed to help solve the problem of Ron's little announcement?"
Dumbledore paused here and laced his fingers together upon the table before him. His expression grew serious and he paused a long moment before he said, "Over the past two and half weeks I have been working to establish the best possible foundation for Ministry rule that I hope shall see us through this war. In many ways, I see it as my legacy to my years of service to the Wizengamot and our government. I've done my best to protect our government from easy infiltration by Lord Voldemort and his servants. I've done my best to ensure we shall have a leader in place that will maintain resistance and boost morale of the people. I believe the time is nearing where I will not be able to continue my service to the Wizengamot and I have ordered many things to ensure the integrity of the council remains long after I am no longer the Chief Warlock."
Dumbledore's eyes locked with Harry's and Harry had to ask, "You didn't tell them all the prophecy did you?"
Their eyes remained locked a moment before Dumbledore answered, "I promised you I would not divulge the secret contents of the prophecy, Harry, and I mean to keep my word on that. However," and here, Harry felt distinct trepidation, "I believe the abbreviated portion of the beginning of the prophecy which is already known by the greater Order, Voldemort, and Voldemort's servants, is a different story. Through those who knew this portion since the first fall of Voldemort, rumours were spread that weaved in and out of the tales of the Boy Who Lived."
"So you told them." Harry's voice felt hollow. His insides felt hollow.
Dumbledore nodded once. "Percy made public the fact that I had been the witness to this prophecy, which the majority of the folks on the Wizengamot, had previously believed was merely a fable; a myth or legend of a prophecy foretelling your story as a child that had sprung up to embellish an already fantastic tale. After this exposure, I felt I had little choice but to tell them what so many others already knew. It was the best justification for my previous silence and it served one other very important aim of mine."
Harry didn't want to hear this. His ears were ringing and he didn't want to be here any longer. "I--I don't want to know," he said, shaking his head and pushing back from the table.
Dumbledore bowed his head and peered over his silver half-moon glasses. "Harry..."
It was one thing, Harry thought, to have Voldemort and his Death Eaters think Harry was 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'; it meant they would fear him just a bit. It was yet another thing to have the Order knowing this; it meant they respected him when they would otherwise consider him a mere child. But everyone else? What would it mean for how everyone else would see him? He'd never even be just Harry Potter anymore. Even the Boy Who Lived title was past tense at this point. He almost wished to return to the time when they all thought him mad and a silly child desperate for attention; at least then...then they weren't watching him...watching and waiting...
"Why?" he asked plaintively as he stared at the back of his hands.
"They need to know how important you are, Harry. There may come a time when I am no longer here to assert this truth and you may have need of the respect that that truth affords you. As it is, you benefit now from my reputation and the freedoms I can secure for you, Harry." Dumbledore sighed audibly and looked around the table at each of them. "I mean what I say when I tell you I feel I have assembled my legacy. So many find peace in thinking that so long as I remain around and strong, that Lord Voldemort cannot prevail. They find security in calling me 'The Only One He Fears'. I cannot be the one and only one on whom they pin their hopes, Harry. Especially not, when in truth, you are the one who holds our hopes."
"Fine," Harry said sharply. "It's too late now anyway, isn't it? How is this supposed to help?"
Dumbledore was looking intently at Harry now, unperturbed by Harry's irritation at what he felt was meddling and borderline manipulation. "I spent a great many breaths singing your praises, Harry. It is, after all, a very easy thing to do."
"Great," Harry muttered, earning a light nudge from Hermione's nearby foot.
Dumbledore was undeterred. "For all intents and purposes, they see you as my apprentice, Harry. They see you as the one who will succeed me when I move on."
"Well, that was a bit stupid," Harry said crossly. Hermione's foot found his again and this time, the nudge wasn't so light. "Seeing as I'm not your apprentice and I can't do half of all you can."
Dumbledore merely twinkled.
"It's not funny!" Harry protested. "They think I'm something I'm not! I've met with you a few hours a week for just a few months--I didn't even know you're some famous blood alchemist until Snape told me! I don't know a fraction of all that you do--it's--I--" Harry snapped his mouth shut yet again as he was quite aware he was acting childish with his ranting. "Let's just move on. What else is there?"
Dumbledore acted unperturbed by Harry's outburst. "Well, I expect that since the members of the Wizengamot are finally free to leave London and the Ministry, that, the portion of the prophecy revealed to them will soon be found in the Daily Prophet. Now, whether it eclipses all the other press releases I sent out this afternoon concerning our investigations, I have no idea. But I am quite sure that Ronald's outburst will appear to be very much what it was-- a jest based on the portion he knew--the portion everyone else will also know. This will be much clearer when the news becomes public. It should also help Severus in his attempt to return and regain favour this evening with Voldemort."
Moody, who was wiping his chin after taking a swig from his hip flask, asked, "So you think Weasley's slip will merely appear to be an early leak of the Prophet's scoop from tomorrow?"
"I do," Dumbledore said with conviction.
McGonagall seemed wholly relieved that a potential catastrophe was averted, while Moody still seemed to be considering it as he said, "I'd feel much better if Weasley wasn't now known to be on the outs with Potter here. He's a weak link then; a very exploitable weak link. Maybe he ought to be monitored..."
"Oh, Alastor!" McGonagall said with exasperation. "Honestly--you talk like a spat between friends portends betrayal on the grandest scale! Albus--do go on--we now understand what you meant about this incident being well timed. Go on." She shot Moody a glowering look which Moody only acknowledged by fixing his magical eye upon her.
Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard and said, "Well, I've also told Professor Snape he might inform Lord Voldemort that the rest of the contents of the prophecy are being protected by use of the Fidelius Charm with me as the Secret Keeper."
"But you're already the Secret Keeper for the Order's Headquarters," Harry interjected. "I thought you told me once it wasn't certain if one person could be the Secret Keeper for two secrets?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I did, Harry. However, since that time when your parents used it, I have done some of my own research and I do now feel entirely confident it will work. With your agreement, Harry, I can complete the charm that will lock the secret within my soul."
"Didn't ask for my agreement earlier," Harry muttered. This time, he was smart enough to move his foot out of the way before Hermione's could find his. "How does that work? Will you have to tell each of us again so that we still know?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no—the charm cannot take away knowledge. To you who already know—it is not a secret and so, what you already know, cannot be kept from you. Performing the spell to create a Secret Keeper merely locks the secret away from being spread to anyone else that doesn't know it—unless of course the Secret Keeper divulges the secret. I believe if Lord Voldemort understands this, then he will not bother to try to gain the knowledge through Mister Weasley or anyone else. The only path to the prophecy will be through me."
Quickly, Dumbledore moved the conversation on to the findings from his investigations with the Wizengamot.
"Percy, as I had wished to personally inform both Virginia and Ronald, was indeed found guilty of crimes that have resulted in a prison term of five months and a steep fine. When that was decided last night and I had to inform Molly and Arthur, I'm sure you can all imagine that Molly took it rather hard. They actually have Penelope staying with them at this time and I think Arthur is quite grateful for the help in calming Molly." With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore added, "I shall not be surprised if I receive a Howler from her by the time her Calming Draughts wear off."
"What were the charges against him, Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"We found enough evidence to convict on failure to adhere to Ministry protocol, trespassing into restricted archives, and conspiracy to commit treason. Do you recall that the Ministry had once put forth a call for increased research with regards to the Imperius Curse? Cornelius claimed it was in order to better understand how one could prove one was cursed."
Moody, McGonagall, Harry and Hermione all nodded, vaguely recalling this from summer.
"Well, it seems Percy was the one person Cornelius assigned to gathering any reports or suggestions for research on this subject. Percy admitted that he'd agreed to forward these to who he thought was Edward Planesse. According to Percy, Planesse claimed to have a passing interest in the curse and had offered to go over them in detail and write Percy's report when the time came. In return for this help, Percy agreed to bypass Ministry protocol for removing records from archives to aid Planesse in his investigation of Lucius Malfoy. As you might now guess--all records pertaining to either any recent research on the Imperius Curse as well as all records documenting the transactions performed by Lucius Malfoy while he was employed at the Ministry, are now long gone."
Moody cursed at this and Hermione looked scandalised that such valuable research and information was now gone. McGonagall looked like she severely wished she could dock house points by the hundreds to punish Percy, and Dumbledore merely looked tired.
Dumbledore continued, "Yes, as the charges for obstructing research were levelled, that would have been when Percy decided to let loose with telling everyone how I'd refused to cooperate with his recreation of lost prophecies. But either way, that brings me to the other point of his conspiring to commit treason--he had made an agreement with Planesse to maintain an extra copy of this one recording in exchange for Percy sharing credit in uncovering what Planesse promised was a huge operation led by Malfoy."
"Which is likely the truth of it!" Moody said angrily.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "But there is no proof now and, of course, Planesse's impostor was never really working to uncover facts as he was looking to cover them up."
Moody was intermittently growling and cursing.
"Was he even under Imperius, do we know?" Hermione asked.
Dumbledore smiled thinly. "I am afraid we cannot be sure. It's impossible to rule out, even under Veritaserum."
McGonagall drummed her fingers upon the table and asked, "What about your other investigations, Albus?"
"Yes," Hermione said leaning forward with interest. "Did you uncover who was impersonating Planesse? What about Minister Fudge? Oh! How is Madame Bones doing as Minister?"
Dumbledore beamed at her enthusiasm. "First--I'm afraid we haven't a clue as to who'd been impersonating Edward Planesse. I suspect if we do find out who it was, it will be through connection not associated with a Ministry investigation. We consider ourselves very fortunate that the real Edward remained as a ghost to tell us what really happened. If he hadn't, Percy might have been left to take a much larger chunk of the blame."
For a few moments, Harry wasn't sure that made him feel better or worse.
"Secondly, it seems that our former minister was aware of nearly all of Percy's behaviour. Cornelius, as it should not surprise you, was asked by Planesse to gather all the books from Malfoy's Gringotts vault; this, we already knew. Percy testified that Planesse had suggested the case against Malfoy would be a blockbuster if he could access all of Malfoy's private ledgers to trace the embezzlement of millions of galleons. While the accusations of embezzlement are likely true, we have no proof except the fact that all records are missing. Fudge, along with Percy, was promised a cut of the credit for uncovering the Malfoy operation.
"It has also come to light that Cornelius was trying to float the coffers by doing deals to sell confiscated Dark Artefacts. According to a few witnesses, it was a practice Malfoy had employed. He called it selling to collectors who were merely interested in the items for their 'historic and artistic' value."
Moody nearly fell off his chair at this because he jumped up so fast. "Bloody conniving snake!" he growled furiously.
McGonagall looked at him reproachfully and said, "Merlin, Alastor--pull yourself together! This is a school and--oh, just take a nip of whatever is in your hipflask and settle yourself down! Honestly!"
Harry couldn't help raising an amused eyebrow at this exchange.
Moody continued to grumble as he sat back down. "No good, elitist, dark wizard disgrace--one guess who his favorite collector was!!!"
Dumbledore continued to relate details of various other findings that merely confirmed Fudge's modus operandi was to basically claim credit for everything positive that had ever happened and to distance himself entirely from all things negative.
"Ah, and as to our new Minister, I believe that, although she has much ground to make up, she will do a fine job. Amelia is a very capable witch and has the respect of nearly everyone who knows her. I might also relate the good news that, as some of her first acts as Minister, she's authorised an envoy to the Giants of Middle Europe. I used Fawkes this afternoon to send a message to Hagrid to inform him that our offers of friendship and alliance with any and all giants is now backed by the Ministry and increased in scope. I received a reply back from him--" Dumbledore smiled broadly here, "--he says their guide informed them they are currently about a week away from the colony of giants. Oh, and he also says his brother seems to have a way with the dragons in the camp where their guide lives and that he's very well aware that he is not allowed to return with a dragon--not even a baby."
Harry smiled at this and felt a pang of regret at not having been able to see Hagrid since autumn.
"Also," Dumbledore continued, "Amelia repealed several decrees that had stripped rights and freedoms from various half-breeds and authorised an increase in funding for Werewolf Support Services that will bring in the volunteer work that Remus has been coordinating with St. Mungo's. One of her main pushes to counter Voldemort is to demonstrate to those formerly denied equal status in the wizarding community that she intends to help them and return their rights."
"Oh!" Hermione said breathlessly. "What about the Elves? Will she free them, do you think?" It was now Harry's turn to nudge her foot with his. Moody had both eyes focused upon Hermione as if he'd never quite seen anything like her. Even Harry had to admit, when it came to house-elves, Hermione had a bit of a madness. "What?" she asked Harry reaching down to rub her foot distractedly. "You agree with me, don't you?"
Harry sighed and refused to look at Moody as he whispered, "Hermione, let's talk about that later." This made Hermione almost seem to pout but Harry really didn't want to see her get laughed at by Moody, McGonagall or Dumbledore because of her obsession with house-elves. Thank god Snape isn't here, he thought with relief.
"Well," Dumbledore said, stretching his long arms before him, "are there any other questions any of you have?"
Harry threw a quick look at Hermione, hoping she'd still remain quiet about the house-elves. "I have a question, Professor," he said. He turned to McGonagall then, "Actually, to you, Professor McGonagall. I, er, just happened to be walking by the staff room this weekend, before everyone else returned. I overheard you handing out lists of students to the heads of the houses." Harry slowed in his speech as he saw McGonagall begin to frown. "I, er, sort of heard you mention that some students needed to be watched and I also heard Professor Sprout comment upon Slytherin losing numerous students." He hazarded a quick glance around the table and continued, "We've also noticed some of the students who haven't returned..."
McGonagall looked to Dumbledore as she explained, "We've had about two dozen students not return this term." She turned sharply to Harry then, saying, "And it's not necessarily uncommon--many students in sixth and seventh years who've reached seventeen decide they've had enough schooling." She pulled herself up tall and then conceded, "However, it does seem that this year has more than the usual number of students terminating their education."
"But why?" Harry asked, clearly irritating McGonagall with his inquiries into what she saw as school matters. "Why would they leave without finishing?"
"Some students simply do not need the continued education, Potter," McGonagall answered. "They certainly do not need to give me a reason. We try to watch other students who we think may be contemplating ending their education. It's part of our responsibilities as your teachers to offer guidance and advice no matter a student's intended career."
But Harry recalled Tracey Davis had said she wanted to be an Auror. You certainly needed to continue studying for NEWTs to do that, he thought.
Hermione gave Harry a look, telling him he obviously wasn't getting anywhere, and asked, "Professor Dumbledore? Er, I was wondering...see, Harry suggested I ask..."
"What?"
Hermione nudged him with her shoulder, ignoring him as she went on. "I was wondering if I might be able to speak with the Sorting Hat some time?"
Dumbledore beamed at this. "A sage counsel if ever there was one. Yes, yes, not the best of conversationalists; tends to be a bit of a know-it-all, really. But, the Hat's wisdom spans the age of this castle and beyond. It sees much that, we as wizards tend to overlook. Yes, Hermione, I would be delighted to have you stop by and speak with the Hat."
Hermione beamed. "Perhaps next weekend, Professor?"
While Hermione was speaking to Dumbledore, Harry heard Moody ask McGonagall, "You want to get me a copy of the students you've lost this term?" Harry turned at this and saw Moody's magical eye whirl around towards him. "Just thinking it might be wise to know who's where. I don't think Potter was asking 'cuz he wondered about their education." Harry turned then and avoided letting McGonagall see him smirk.
As Harry waited for Hermione to gather her things for them to leave, Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Harry? Are you all right with what tomorrow's paper may bring?"
Harry felt a weight settle upon his shoulders and sighed. How was he supposed to live up to being considered Albus Dumbledore's apprentice? He wasn't. He was just another sixth year student at Hogwarts who happened to do well at Defense and who'd had a few private lessons with the greatest wizard of the age. He wasn't anyone's apprentice by any stretch of the imagination and he certainly wasn't anything like Dumbledore.
"They'll all think I'm something I'm not," he mumbled.
Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "That may be, Harry. But I happen to know you're much more than that." He paused then to draw out his silver tin of sweets and, after Harry declined by shaking his head, Dumbledore popped a mint into his mouth. "You know, Harry," he said as he pocketed the tin again, "I have considered, at times, asking you if you might prefer to drop your formal studies in favour of more specialized and personalized training--"
"I might," Harry answered at once.
Dumbledore nodded. "That doesn't surprise me. However...I think there's much to be said for you remaining a student here--besides being able to play quidditch, I mean. I think it's also very important that you remain amongst the other students. It's much more difficult for people to build you up in their minds if you're in the same classes as them and eating in the same Great Hall."
"But how does that help me learn anything?"
"You're not learning now?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry looked down at the ground. "Well, yes, but..." Dumbledore was a busy man, Harry thought to himself. He's busy being the Chief Warlock, appointing ministers and, in his spare time, running a school. He's already giving several hours out of his spare time to help the Order and me. What more can I expect?
"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted softly, waiting until Harry looked up again. His blue eyes shone over his glasses with an unfathomable emotion.
The lack of twinkling was notable and Harry saw an unprecedented openness in those blue eyes. He wondered what Dumbledore was thinking... "Sir?"
But before Harry could see anything in the eyes that were very rarely so unguarded, they flickered up to settle upon the infamous scar upon his head as Dumbledore said, "I should tell you, it is my plan that by summer, I expect to no longer be obliged to serve in the Wizengamot. It's my hope that I will be able to work with you intensively at that time, if it is your wish."
A very large part of Harry was immediately excited at this prospect and incredible opportunity. However, another part, the same part that felt resentful that Dumbledore's eyes had remained focused upon the scar while speaking, caused Harry to reply, "Yeah, that might be all right. If you can manage to work it into your schedule."
Harry turned to leave then with Hermione to head back up to Gryffindor Tower for the night and he never saw the distress his last comment had caused the headmaster.
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry had to fight the urge to snap at every person who stared at him as he crossed the room. He didn't want anyone looking at him and whispering behind their hands like he knew they would and, without even wanting to linger to for a good night kiss, he mumbled, "I'm going up to bed." He didn't even look back when Hermione called his name nor when he irritably replied, "I'm fine!"
He glared at everything and everyone as he trudged up the stone staircase and he nearly knocked over the person trying to exit the sixth-year dormitory as he pulled open the door to enter.
"Oof! Harry!" Ginny cried, rubbing her elbow which she'd smacked against the doorframe as she'd had to jump to the side to avoid him.
"What?" he snapped, never pausing until he could throw his book bag onto the floor beside his bed. He toed off his shoes and shrugged off his school robe as he sat on the edge of his bed. "What are you doing in here anyway?" he asked Ginny crossly. He snuck a quick look over at Ron's empty bed and then looked back to Ginny. "Well?"
Ginny was glaring angrily back at Harry. "Could you be in a worse mood?"
"Probably," Harry muttered as he began unknotting his tie.
"Well, then maybe you ought to wait until morning to read that. Ron spent the past hour trying to tell you what he should've just explained months ago."
Harry then saw a folded over piece of parchment set atop his nightstand. On the front, his name was written in Ron's untidy scrawl. He hesitated before gingerly picking it up and turning it over as if inspecting it for some curse.
"I hexed it so no one but you could open it," Ginny informed him.
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to ask what it was and kept staring at his name written across the front.
Ginny sighed and crossed over to Harry's bed to sit beside him. "I know you don't understand--I didn't even understand what all was going on. But Ron told me tonight--after we left. And he is the biggest idiot there ever was for no other reason than because he never told anyone what was going on."
Harry flipped the parchment back over onto his nightstand and said, "I don't know if I even care anymore. I'm not really interested in hearing you try to excuse Ron's bad attitude." He stood up then and walked over to his wardrobe where he pulled his jumper off and hung up his tie. "Unless you care to tell me that's some massive apology for his behavior and that there's a matching one by Hermione's bed--I don't care to even read it."
Harry turned then and was about to reach for the parchment to tear it up when Ginny snatched it away.
"Fine, then! Be an arse! But everyone stood by you last year when you were having it rough! Everyone tolerated your bad attitude! No one said forget it, you're no friend of mine just because you got snippy and hurt people's feelings!"
Harry felt his blood begin to boil yet again. "I never--"
"And no one--ever refused your apology for you being such an insufferable prat last year!"
Harry snapped his mouth shut. "Is it an apology?" he asked quietly as he eyed the parchment in her hands.
Ginny just calmly placed the note on Harry's pillow and then stepped back. She walked towards the door to leave and paused only to look back and say, "There's only one way to find out now, isn't there?"
Harry put off even touching the note until he was dressed for bed and under the covers. He realized that Ginny had assumed he had still been angry with Ron when he'd stormed into the dormitory. But the truth was, Harry was irritated with just about everyone.
He was irritated with Dumbledore for sure. The man had used his knowledge of a portion of the prophecy--no matter how well known it already was--for his own political manoeuvring and here he was, building Harry up to be some great hero for everyone to look up to and worship.
Of course Dumbledore would want to devote some time over the summer to training Harry. He wouldn't want his little protégé--his legacy--to embarrass him, now would he?
Harry was a perfect little protégé. He came already equipped with his own legend as the Boy Who Lived, a built in adversary in Voldemort and he had a bloody scar for everyone to stare at that would always mark him for who he was. Harry'd give up all the novelty of having skills as a Metamorphmagus if he could just obliterate that scar upon his head. What good was being able to change how he looked, only to still bear a lightening bolt scar upon his head that everyone recognised anyway? It was useless and a bloody damned annoying reminder of just who everyone thought he should be.
If only getting people to stare at my scar was good enough to perform Legilimency on them, he thought bitterly. But then, as he continued to flip over the parchment in his hands, he wondered, why can't I use my scar as my projection? Everyone--even the ones who are too polite to stare at it openly--want to get a good look at it... If they're given the image of my scar, then can simultaneously be looking into my eyes and 'looking' at the scar! They'll be thinking about me and then I can finally see the truth of how people think of me!
Harry felt a rush of excitement. It was perfect! It ended his search for a projection and gave him a way to see how others truly saw him!
He was so elated at his discovery of a projection idea that he immediately opened the note in his hands and eagerly began to read.
Harry,
Everyone tells me I ought to just tell you guys this and get it over with. Dumbledore told me I ought to have told you while we were all still at the Celebration. I could tell he was disappointed tonight that I still hadn't told you. Or her.
Harry frowned and reread the first part twice. Given how Ron seemed completely unable to even mention Hermione by name, Harry had half a mind to bin the letter right there. But he read on.
I told Ginny tonight and she's threatening me at wand point with some new hex she looked up if I don't write you now. I hate this! You don't understand and I don't want to make you understand--it's like I'm begging. I'm NOT pathetic!
Okay, she's not giving me a choice. Remember back at the Department of Mysteries? That was stupid. Of course you remember. Unfortunately, I do too and that's really the whole problem.
You see, the thing with the tentacles that attacked me was a brain with thought tendrils or something coming from it. When those things latched on to me, they left scars. They left scars on my arms where they touched me and they left, Dumbledore calls them 'impressions', in my brain.
At first, it just meant I kept replaying everything that happened that night over and over in my mind. They gave me this stuff that was supposed to help me control it and said it would get better. The stuff helped--tasted nasty like one of Fred and George's potions gone wrong--but it worked.
Anyway, I got home and didn't think I'd need it anymore and for a while, I didn't. It seemed fine. I kept remembering things, sure, but Mum said that was to be expected when kids got themselves mixed up in grown up business. It was worse when I tried to think of you or...her. I realise that now. I didn't then--I just thought it was something I'd get over.
I don't know if Hermione--the name was written with heavy strokes--told you what happened that night after the rest of us were portkeyed back from the Ministry. I reckon she did. She tells you everything, I'm sure. I'd been hit with an Inebriation Jinx--Lucius Malfoy's idea of showing me a free and easy spell to get drunk, that bastard. It made me act as if I were pissed. It made me do things I would NEVER have done. EVER. It made me say some really stupid and ridiculous stuff to Hermione that night. Basically, I said rubbish that I wish I could forget had ever, EVER happened. But I can't. The brain's thoughts were still--'recording' is what Dumbledore called it.
The potion they gave me initially made the thoughts stop 'recording' stuff and then I had to keep taking it to make sure the thoughts weren't continually replaying over and over in my head. Like I said, I thought I would be fine. I thought it just needed time. Every time anyone ever brought up her name, it made me replay that awful, stupid scene over and over. I couldn't even write to her over the summer.
And then I saw you guys on your birthday. It was worse in person and, I didn't know it then, but there were also thoughts of you that would replay when I see you. You were there when the blasted brain latched on to me and, with you, I keep replaying it over how you looked at me like I was an idiot. Well, I guess I was--summoning over a brain like it was a quaffle or something. But it was that damn spell Malfoy put on me! Yeah, so you gave me this look like you couldn't believe what I was doing and, well, I know you tried to help, but then you left. You left! I thought I was about to die from being suffocated by a bloody brain and you left me there! Okay, I know, I know-- there were Death Eaters after us. But in my mind when it replays, I only see you, leaving and running out the door when I thought you'd help me.
Now I feel like the world's biggest moron. Here I am sniffing like a five year old who dropped his sugar quill into the cauldron. I know all these things are stupid. I know you didn't just leave because you didn't care if a hungry brain ate me for dinner.
But I can't help it. It replays every effing time I see you. Or her. I see you--it replays you leaving me and me wondering why you're leaving me. I see her and I replay--well, something I am sure she would never ever like to think about again.
Dumbledore said at the Celebration that it's too late for the potions to help. The thoughts of the recordings have already made 'impressions' in my real brain. He told me it was now like learning to fight a Boggart; that'd I have to figure out how to stop the thoughts from taking over my mind. He said if I don't learn how to fight it, it would only get worse.
I obviously haven't figured it out yet.
Ginny says she'll help me now that she knows how bad it is. But, well, I told her she'd better wait because if you and Hermione don't want to ever have anything to do with me--and I guess I know I shouldn't blame you if you don't--then there's no point.
So, I guess that's it. That's why I can't help myself from being an utter idiot whenever I see you two. I'm sorry I got brassed off in the middle of Sirius' Celebration (Mum was livid!) But I guess when I heard there was all this stuff you'd been keeping from me, it just made the whole stupid memory of you leaving me behind worse.
I know, I'm pathetic. (And didn't I just say I wasn't?) I can't control my own thoughts and, unlike what you might think, my mouth is connected to my brain and so it says all sorts of stupid stuff that I really don't mean and that I know is awful and wrong.
Ginny says I should tell you that I'm staying the night down here in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey made me take a Calming Draught--tasted like lemon, not bad.
I feel like asking you to forget everything I've ever said this past year and to just ignore any words that come out of my mouth. These bloody thoughts are making me want to ask you to come find me so we can be friends again, but I know it's just these stupid thoughts. They're annoying really. You don't need to do anything for me and I know I shouldn't blame you if you never look at me again.
Ron
PS- Ginny says I should explain why I'm writing to only you now. Believe me--it wouldn't work if I tried to write her. Not now. I can write to you and just sound like a pathetic, blubbering fool, but if I were to write to her, then I'd want to yell, kick, scream and curse. I may be stupid at times, but I'm fairly sure that won't make for a very good apology.
It only took Harry a minute to decide to get out of bed, throw on his invisibility cloak and sneak out the portrait hole.
Note: There's a Yahoo Group for this fic. See my profile page for the link. Cheers!